The Ballad of Love and Hate
by Brandidy
Summary: A one shot based on the song The Ballad of Love and Hate-The Avett Brothers.


_This is honestly the most bethyl song I've ever heard. Anyway, here's wonderwall._

A letter arrives at 9 am Tuesday morning. The doorbell releases a shrill that reverberates through the walls, awaking Daryl from a deep sleep sedated by alcohol. He grumbles something incoherent and angry, then wipes his face and slowly drags himself from the cold bed.

He immediately knew where the letter came from. How could he not? The second he sees the delicate flow of the handwriting, his heart beat is knocking his brain against his skull. The letters connect with such ease that his migraine increases when he begins to think about it. Did she practice her handwriting to get it to look like that? Forget it.

Letting the question slip from his mind, he just nods his head in acknowledgment to the mail man standing near his car and tears the paper from the mailbox.

"My vacation's ending. I'm coming home late. The weather was fine and the ocean was great, and I can't wait to see you again.

-Beth"

Daryl stares down at the paper, the words swirling around in his mind. He can imagining her saying it, her blonde hair whipping around her as she bites her lip with some stupid grin. And before he knows what he's doing, he's fighting back a smile.

And then it was gone as he crumbles it into a ball and squeezes his hand until his knuckles whiten. His feet begin to move, and he throws the paper ball into the trash can as he walks passed. He waits to hear the thunk of it meeting the bottom before he is satisfied and returns to his house, slamming the door.

The house is chilly and quiet. He's always hated it being quiet. Looking down, his eyes catch the sweet face on a photo. His headache begins to throb and he looks away. He reaches up and lays it down. He hears the chime of the text in his back pocket. Beth's name runs along the top of the screen and makes his chest clench. Without a second thought, he hits her name and watches as the screen goes dark and the calling buttons appear. His heart is racing, and he's about to hang up, but then he hears it. The cheerful voice.

"This is Beth Greene! I guess I'm not available right now but leave me a message and I'll try to get back to you!"Then it beeped, and he forgot what he was going to say. The not so carefully planned words were gone in an instant, and now he was standing completely still, breathing into his phone.

"Uh," he began, gathering up some words, mumbling "Don't know why you'd send some letter. No one here cares if you go or you stay." He knew that it was a horrible thing to say, but he was frustrated and…Hurt? No, not hurt. Why would he be hurt? He didn't care. "I barely even noticed that you were away. I'll see you or I won't, whatever." Then his finger tapped the red button to end the call. "God dammit."

Beth sits in her seat on the plane, humming the lyrics to an old song she had heard in the taxi to the airport. The person beside her kept smiling every time she looked over, and every time Beth would apologize for forgetting that there were others on the plane. The man would shake his head and laugh saying , "By all means, continue."

She stares out of the window, watching the ocean pass beneath her. It was so big and beautiful, but as much as she loved it, there was somewhere else she wanted to be. Somewhere where her stomach was aching to return to.

Daryl keeps his head up and walks through the dark streets of Atlanta.

"Hey," a man in a dark outfit says as he stops beside him. "Do you know where I can get some… Y'know." And Daryl did know. He knew because his brother had dabbled in similar things. This wasn't the first time that someone had asked him about drugs. Maybe he just gives off the vibe. But the words stayed on the tip of his tongue as he considered how the situation would have gone if Beth had been there. She probably would have the guy convinced of going to rehab by this time.

But she's not here. "Nah man, sorry." And the guy thanks him anyway and continues on, not a second glance in Daryl's direction. It's always like this, with him being mistaken for a druggie, or a biker, or just someone scary. He's always being confronted and asked questions, and it usually ends in a handshake, or if Beth's around, they'll apologize to her and stare a little longer which tended to seriously piss him off.

With that, he turned and left.

Beth arrives at the airport, dragging her suitcase behind her. Her hair is pinned back in a small bun, and a soft smile graces her lips.

Her eyes follow a small stack of money as it falls from a woman in a purple coat's pocket, landing on the floor before her. She quickly grabs it and looks up, searching for the coat. She sees it in the distance, but it's a small crowd. Her fingers let loose of her suitcase and she charges forward, making her way through the crowd. Some people look at her like she's crazy, and she just knows that if Daryl was here, he'd have chewed her out in a minute for leaving all of her stuff like that. But, then he'd smile.

She tapped the woman's shoulder when she got close enough, holding the money before her. "I think you dropped this." Beth says, and the woman's lips part for a moment, taking the breathless Beth in, then her eyes light up and she nods, taking the money. Beth gets the feeling she doesn't speak English, and so she smiles and retreats.

Daryl sits on the hood of his recently acquired 1968 cutlass. His back is cold from the windshield, but he doesn't care enough to put his jacket beneath him. The stars are shining bright above him, and the moon is illuminating the night, but like his cold back, Daryl just can't find a reason to give a damn. There's only one reason why he would sit out and look at stars, and he doesn't want to think about that right now. Doesn't want to think about her.

Lazily tipping a bottle to his lips, he allows the liquid to penetrate and saturate his mouth. After he swallows, there's this burning numbness that accompanies it. Moonshine'll do that to you.

Beth finally hails a cab. She opens the door, and the guy inside looks up at Beth. "Unless we're leaving the state, this ride is free." He says, and Beth looks at him with doubt. "You can thank that lady." He says, pointing. Beth looks up to see a purple coat retreating. Her heart swells and proceeds to melt. She gets in and shuts the door.

"So, where to?", he asks, looking back at her with a smile. He's cute. Not cute like a kid, but cute like someone you'd meet in a coffee shop and end up marrying.

"North Gimple Avenue, please." She responds, digging through her purse for her phone.

The guy looks at her through the mirror often, and any time Beth sees, she smiles in return. He doesn't talk for most of the way. Neither of them do much of anything, besides him driving. She just reclines in the back and yawns every few minutes.

She sees them turning onto her street and clutches her things in anticipation. She's going to see him again.

Her stomach drops.

His car is gone. He's gone.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Would you like to go out sometime?" He blurts out, spinning in his seat. The back seat is quiet, and he panics. "I mean, do you have a boyfriend?"

Beth looks out the window. "I'm not sure."

The car stops, and unbuckles her seat belt. She reaches into her pocket and hands him a twenty, despite his protest.

"Can I take you out for coffee sometime?" She must be a psychic.

Beth looks up at him, then shrugs her shoulders in either defeat or determination, she cannot tell which. "I'm so sorry. I can't."

She watches as something similar to tears fill his eyes. He smiles, then watches her as she drags out her suit case and walks up to her empty house. She waves, and he waves back, then drives off.

The cutlass pulls into the drive way with a screech, inches away from breaking down the garage door. Daryl slumps out, slamming the door shut as he stumbles up the driveway, nearly falling because of one of the cracks in the pavement. "Shit! I hate this damn place!" He roared, shoving his shoulder into the front door.

The door opened, knocking into the wall behind it. Neglecting to close it, he tosses his jacket onto some sort of brief case that he honestly doesn't think much of, slapping his hands down on the marble counter top in the kitchen. The clock said 2:55 am, but there was no way he'd left that bar before 3.

He turns back around, and it hits him when he sees the suit case again, this time noticing the little blue hat. _She's home._

Beth sits on the bed, listening as he screams and slams things down. Once it goes quiet, she guesses that he's figured it out. She hears his footsteps on the hallway outside of the room, and she sits with her hands in her lap. She wishes he would have called. Something to let her know he was okay.

His face appears before anything else, and he won't look at her. He stands in the doorway, his head hung down and his eyes on the floor. His toes dig into the carpet and he has his hands shoved all the way into his pockets. He was always cute when he was shy.

She knows what he'll say before he does, and so she stands. He opens his mouth, only to see her hand wrapped around her phone, and his name on the screen. She must have listened to the voice mail. Why the hell had he thought that was a good idea? He couldn't think straight when she wasn't around.

"Love, I'm sorry." He mutters.

"What for?" She asks. His head lifts and their eyes meet for the first time in a month. It's electric. It's warm. It's home. "I'm yours and that's it. Whatever."

Daryl begins to protest, but Beth leans forward, slanting her warm lips over his cold ones. She puts her hands on his jaw, feeling the stubble. Daryl wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her closer. He's warm and alive. Her vacation was great, but it was lonely. Each night, she'd lie awake and just.. Miss him.

"I should not have been gone for so long-"

"I'm yours and that's it." He agrees. _Forever._

Beth smiles up at him and he wonders what the hell he did to deserve her. How had someone not stolen this girl right from his dirty finger tips? He'd never be good enough for her, but she didn't care. She deserved so much more, but she'd never leave him. Why was he so mad at her?

Oh yeah. He wasn't mad. He was hurt. He was hurt that she'd leave him for so long. But it's okay. Because she's home. His girl is finally _home._

"You're mine and that's it." _Forever._


End file.
